


Always in my Heart

by pixielove



Category: One Direction
Genre: Drunk dialling Louis, Harry Styles - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Response to prompt, harry is drunk, larry angst, larry break up, larry stylinson - Freeform, the 'always in my heart' tweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:46:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixielove/pseuds/pixielove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's drunk and alone in L.A when he calls Louis. The infamous 'always in my heart' tweet has beaten Obama's, and is the second most re-tweeted tweet in history. Harry asks Louis if he really truly meant it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always in my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is my response to this prompt - <https://www.tumblr.com/reblog/107941597951/ai6qdUC7>

__  
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**Always in my Heart**

 

 

Scrolling through his Tumblr dash, Harry smiled weakly at all the Larry posts. They were celebrating the fact  that the ‘always in my heart’ tweet that Louis had sent him had finally beaten Obama’s and was now the second most retweeted tweet in history. Harry’s phone kept buzzing with notifications. Fans were tagging them both in tweets and congratulating them. The sun hadn’t long sunk beyond the horizon in Lala Land. Harry was sat on the deck, watching the candy floss clouds drift overhead, his heart falling. Alone, with nothing but his secret Tumblr dash for company, Harry had already polished off a bottle of wine and was now onto a crate of rum and coke’s. If only they knew, he thought. If only they knew.

The world thought they were practically like husbands. Once upon a time, they had been. Once upon a time, Jay tweeted ‘jokingly’ about the fact that her son was returning to his husband. In their hearts, they had been married – mind, body and soul, intertwined with each other. HarryandLouis. The whole debacle was really Harry’s own fault. It all started during the X Factor – of course, Harry had been gone for Louis the moment their paths had collided in the bathrooms.

“Oops,” Louis had said, blushing, embarrassed to have gotten a fleck of pee on Harry’s trousers.

“Hi,” Harry had grinned, and moments later, when they exited the bathroom, Louis was asking for a photograph – he even pulled Harry into a hug and told him not to worry, that he’d know Harry would go far and become famous. Of course, the five of them had become famous, thrown together in a band. Fate made no mistakes. It didn’t take Harry long to realise he was somewhat (exceedingly) head over heels for Louis Tomlinson. At that stage, he hadn’t even realised he was anything but straight. He had put it aside and ignored it as best he could – after all, Louis had Hannah. Why make a fool of himself by revealing feelings that were most likely not reciprocated? So Harry buried his feelings, but everyone around them noticed that they were definitely more than friends. And that’s how they stayed, for a while, even after moving into a London flat together. Neither together, nor ‘just friends’, but something in-between, something where the lines began to blur. Emotionally, they were like two domestic husbands, but physically… it was another story. Of course, Louis and Harry were very tactile with each other, sleeping together in the same bed, spooning, hugging, kissing each other’s cheeks, unconsciously flirting, (“kiss me, you fool”). Louis was flamboyant but still too young and afraid of acknowledging who he really was, so when Harry stupidly introduced him to Eleanor Calder, Louis went for it.

_“She’s got a French name, I’ve got a French name, must be meant to be, H. She’s not bad looking either, is she? Good job, wingman,” Louis had said, patting Harry on the back before frowning at Harry’s crumpled collar, he hesitated and then reached over to fix the collar. “I like her hair, very wavy and long… she’s also really, like, quirky, you know? Unafraid to be different.  I like that in a girl.”_

Harry finished the first rum and coke a little too quickly for someone with no company at all tonight. The skies were fading into a periwinkle hue, the first sign of silver sparkling stars appearing in the heavens. Harry wondered how they’d ended up here, separated by so many nautical miles between them. Tears were already rushing down Harry’s eyes as he stared at the anchor tattoo etched onto his wrist, the tattoo that hid the words ‘I can’t change’.

_“I’m born free, but still they hate…_

_I’m born me, no, I can’t change…”_

So, Harry had continued to pine for Louis who seemed wilfully oblivious about the whole thing, and sometimes seemed to act out. Harry recalled the whole ‘Larry Stylinson is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard’ tweet, which stood in stark contrast to the ‘Always in my heart’ message. But that was Louis. Die hard Larries thought it wasn’t Louis – it was the evil management hackers, but Harry knew Louis better than the fans did, God bless their shipping hearts. Harry knew Louis as the sun, and when the sun refused to shine, the world was not a happy place. Louis was extreme – it was either all or nothing, and you never knew if you were coming or going. It was like living in Alice’s Wonderland. Which way was up, which way was down? One day Louis would be clinging to Harry all day, hugging him, even retiring to bed with him so that they could stay up and watch comedies together, eating sandwiches in bed. Those were the good days, the days when Louis would crack jokes (as usual) but look automatically to Harry to make sure he was laughing. The bad days, though, were really bad. It was like the sun had disappeared and Harry’s world orbited in darkness. Those were the days when Louis was cold and unresponsive and Harry had to ask what he had done wrong. Louis would sigh and say robotically that Harry had done nothing wrong. Then he’d say he was leaving to visit Eleanor and would tell Harry not to wait up. Okay. So, it had been confusing, and it had only gotten worse when Harry had decided to go along with the plan that he should date Taylor Swift. During that time, Louis had basically been in a depressed slump, only really smiling when Harry finally broke up with her.

Harry had thrown caution to the wind, coming home that night to confess everything to Louis. Harry could remember every shifting emotion on his face. Disbelief. Shock. Wonderment. They’d hesitantly kissed under the moonlight and it hadn’t been long before they were regularly making out. It had all gone kind of sour though when Harry had queried what they were doing after Christmas one morning.

_“What the fuck do you mean, ‘when am I breaking up with Eleanor’. Why would I break up with her?”_

_“What? How about, when you decided it was okay to start fooling around with me?” Harry asked, wounded._

_“It’s not like we… H, it’s not like we’re together like that. We… What we were doing, it’s just… like, when we’re on the road, you know? Like you said, fooling around. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”_

_“But it means something to me,” Harry answered in a small voice, feeling his heart shatter into a thousand unfound pieces._

_Louis was quite for a long moment._

_“…it means something to me too, H. I promise it does. It’s just… I was with Eleanor first, you know? And then a month ago, you spring all this on me and I’m trying to come to terms with things. I’m trying to figure things out. I can’t just-”_

_“So, you’re happy to just cheat on me with Eleanor, are you?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at Louis._

_“C-Cheat on YOU? You think I’m cheating on you with my GIRFLRIEND? You’re unbelievable. How about this. I’m cheating on my girlfriend with my best mate, my band-mate…and it could ruin the whole band. It could ruin everything.”_

_“Oh. Right,” Harry said, nodding along and turning his back to Louis, afraid that Louis would see the truth in his eyes. “That’s perfectly fine, Louis. But if you think I’m gonna stand in the side-lines and be your plan B, you can think again, pal. I’m moving out,” he said, storming into his bedroom to start packing, feeling the anger whip through his veins. How dare Louis presume he could use Harry like this? Objectify him? Treat him like he was nothing more than a ticket for a quick blowjob before the show starts?_

_“Where are you going? Don’t be so fucking rash, Styles. Calm the fuck down for a second, will you?” Louis asked, rushing after Harry and standing in the doorway, watching him pack his suitcase._

_“Gonna stay with some mates in L.A for a while…”_

 

_*****_

 

Harry could remember how rocky 2013 had been. They’d broken up – of course. That much was obvious. Fans thought management were keeping them apart, forcing them to pretend the other was invisible, but the truth was something closer to this: Harry and Louis had ‘broken up’, though they had never officially ‘been together’ – however, they’d certainly acted like husbands until Harry had revealed his feelings after ending Haylor. They’d been happy, during the holidays – even doing ice-skating on what might have been a ‘date’, but Harry would never know, because Louis had made it clear that they were pretty much nothing more than friends with benefits. So. Harry had left for L.A and hadn’t met up with Louis again until the 2013 world tour began, and it had been awkward as fuck, quite frankly. Songs like ‘Over Again’ got to Harry, making him cry while he sang it, finding himself looking longingly at Louis while singing, deliberately changing lyrics…

_‘Can we take the same road, two days in the same clothes…_

_And I know what he’ll say if I can make all this pain go…_

_Can we stop this for a minute…_

_You know, I can tell that your heart isn’t in it or with it…’_

Harry’s heart always had seized up in that moment, knowing with every fibre of his being that Louis’ heart wasn’t really in it, with Eleanor. Wondering why he punished himself so, why he punished them both by pretending that Harry didn’t exist…

Harry had often found himself staring at the screen when Louis’ part came, wondering if it was just his imagination, or was Louis as heartbroken as he was?

_‘Tell me with your mind, body and spirit…_

_I can make your tears fall down like the showers that are British…_

_Whether we’re together or apart,_

_We can both remove the masks and admit we regret it from the start…’_

The lads had always known something was up. Zayn was always astute and could read them like a book. Liam liked to mock them and joke around, trying to out them in interviews. And everyone knew Niall was the biggest fan of One Direction – and he was also one of the biggest Larry shippers out there. Harry had moved to L.A. It was escapism, most of all. 2014 saw Harry and Louis on the mend, their friendship restoring. On the road again and touring, they were almost back to what they had been. Almost.

And then, mid 2014, _it_ had happened. Granted they were high and a little tipsy, but perhaps it had given them the courage to forget their inhibitions and go with it. They’d woken up tangled in bed together the next morning and Harry hadn’t regretted a second of it. He’d only wished Louis felt the same way, but it was clear that he was riddled with guilt because of Eleanor.

_“So break up with her already! I don’t understand, Lou. You either love her or you love me. I mean, do THESE mean anything to you or was it just for laughs?” Harry asked, grabbing Louis’ wrist and pointing at the broken infinity rope tattoo circling his wrist._

_“Of course they do, Haz. They mean everything… to me, to us. That’s why I did it, isn’t it? That’s why I got them. For you. To show you. Because I can’t… I couldn’t tell you, at the time. And it’s still no easier. They own our souls until the contract expires…”_

_“Yeah, but they don’t get a say in who you have be with! If you wanna be with me, be with me… but you can’t be with me AND her…  It’s not fair to either me or Eleanor…”_

_“Look, how about, like, if I talk to her about it and tell her the truth about me? Me being gay? Then maybe she will agree to be my cover-”_

_“So have her be a ‘beard’ like the fans have always been saying she is? Fuck them, Lou. Do you really think our fans would care if you came out? If we came out? Most of them ship us, haven’t you seen-”_

Negotiations only got them so far. In the end, Harry had reluctantly agreed with Louis. Louis was to reveal the truth to Eleanor and see if she’d be willing to pretend to be Louis’ girlfriend, at least until the contract expired. It was hard for Harry, who wanted to shout it from the rooftops that Louis was his, but he couldn’t.

  _“I saw in the corner there is a photograph…_

_No doubt in my mind it’s a picture of you…_

_It lies there alone in its bed of broken glass…_

_This bed was never made for two,”_

 

So Harry had gone along with it. 2014 was better, all things considered. Indeed, Harry had been like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. He’d stepped forth with his low cut shirts,  usually unbuttoned all the way down to his butterfly tattoo – prancing and twirling like a ballet dancer on stage, comfortable in his own skin and deciding gleefully to get back at both management and a _stubborn_ Louis with comments like “don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” and “not that important”. It was all going so well. Everything was looking up. Louis had even finally added the dagger tattoo that matched Harry’s rose. They were true nautical lovebirds. Liam was joking all the time, playfully asking, ‘when’s Tommo gonna pop the question then, Harry Styles?’

And then it all came crashing down the day before Louis’ birthday. Harry had gone out and bought an assortment of Doncaster Rovers merchandise for Louis and had come back to Jay’s place to wrap them. Louis had been out with Fizzy and Lottie, doing some Christmas shopping with them and letting them go wild on his card, when a buzzing sound had caught Harry’s attention.

_Harry had just finished tying the bow on Louis’ gifts when a buzzing noise caught his attention. He was babysitting the baby twins who were both lying on a sheepskin rug beside the fire, babbling to themselves. It was Louis’ phone, lying next to Doris’ foot._

_“I swear your big brother is so forgetful,” Harry told Doris, reaching for Louis’ phone. Normally he wouldn’t pry, but Louis apparently had forgotten to put password protection on and the name of the person messaging Harry caught his attention instantly and made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach._

_“Can’t wait to see you babe, miss you muchlyyyyy xoxoxoxox. Love you.”_

_Harry saw red. He wanted to hurl the phone out the window and then maybe go and open up a manhole on the road and throw it into the sewer line. But that would be drastic, and plus, he didn’t want to smash Jay’s windows. On the one hand, it was very tempting to text her back and tell her to piss off, but in the end, common sense told Harry it wouldn’t be a good idea. Tears were already swimming in Harry’s eyes as he reached for a pen and wrote ‘To Louis, love from Harry,’ on the gifts. A lone tear splattered onto the label, smudging Harry’s name._

_In that moment, Harry felt like a joke. Louis had never really broken it off with her, he’d only told Harry he would._

_‘Louis, I have to go to L.A. Urgent call,’ Harry tapped out, quickly sending the text to Louis and rushing upstairs to pack his suitcase._

 

**************

 

It had just hit eleven in Los Angeles. Harry was now sat in his bed, having drunken his way through the entire crate of rum and cokes. His head was spinning as he fell onto his bed, laptop sat on his thighs, looking through his dash and Twitter with blurred vision. He was almost tempted to reveal everything to the fans online now…

But he had a better idea. What time would it be in England now? Surely not too early, Harry thought, reaching for his phone and dialling Louis’ number. It rung and rung and then finally Louis, sounding croaky, answered.

“…H-Hello?”

“Lou…” Harry whispered, clearing his throat. “Louis. Hi. It’s Harry.”

There was a long pause. Harry could hear what sounded like the shuffling of sheets.

“Harry, it’s seven in the morning. What the devil are you doing calling me at Satan o clock for?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I forgot.”

Louis scoffed.

“Doesn’t matter, am awake now… what can I do for you?” he asked in a business-like tone that made Harry frown.

“I… I just wanted to ask you something…” Harry said, trailing off and wondering if he could gather the courage to really say it. Harry opened his Tumblr dash again. Fans were still reblogging it… celebrating amongst themselves. He next checked his Twitter. Fans were still writing to him and Louis and replying to the ‘always in my heart’ tweet.

_‘@Harry_Styles and @Louis_Tomlinson, so romantical… this is the love story of the ages…better than Romeo and Juliet. The world knows it. History knows it.’_

Harry smiled, and finally found his voice.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what, Harry?” Louis sighed, sounding so very far away and tired. Not tired as in exhausted and needing more sleep. The other kind of tired.

“Did you really mean I’m always in your heart?” Harry questioned, tears spilling down his cheeks again, past his jaw and along the slope of his neck. What a wreck he was, a stupid, drunken, sorry mess.

Louis was quite for a couple of moments, no doubt able to hear the muffled sniffles on the phone line.

Harry wiped his nose with the cuff of his sleeve and then dabbed at his wet eyelashes, blinking back the tears.

The wait was painful. It was only seconds, surely less than 60 seconds, just under a minute – enough time for Harry’s scarred heart to contemplate the notion that it had all been just for laughs, that Louis had said it frivolously, that he’d thought it was cute at the time, but hadn’t really meant it...

It was mere seconds, but for Harry, it felt like a lifetime.

“Of course I did, Haz,” Louis finally whispered.

Harry’s heart jumped into his throat and simultaneously pounded frantically against his ribcage. He was suddenly sorry for everything. Sorry for the past. Sorry for never saying what he’d felt. Sorry for letting Louis go. Sorry for misreading and misinterpreting everything including a _friendly_ message from an ex-girlfriend come cover ‘girlfriend’ simply expressing that she missed her friend, couldn’t wait to see him, and loved him. Harry had torn Louis apart over it. Slow to anger, Harry had never been so angry in his life and Louis had never seen that side of Harry until that moment. Harry regretted everything a second after it had happened. He’d called him every name under the sun. _‘Slut. Fucking with both of us, keeping me as your secret little in-door boyfriend. Well fuck you, Lou. Fuck you. You’re a homophobic pussy, you know that? Pussy.’_

The words had continued to play in a broken loop through Harry’s battered brain, every single day, like a broken, scratched record. The look in Louis’ eyes had been heart-breaking, and there had been nothing Harry could do to take it back.

“Y-You know, I… I can’t ever make up for what I did, what I said…” Harry began, sniffing and shuffling out of the bed, moving to the outdoor balcony to stare at the Milky Way above, taking in the pulsating stars. “But I j-just wanted you to know that I did. I did write ‘Don’t Let Me Go’ and…and…and the one I wrote for Ariana…I wrote it for you, actually…”

“I know you did, Haz,” Louis said quietly, not missing a beat.

“Because… I love you, Lou. No matter what happens, I love you,” Harry shared, a fresh tear slipping away.

And then… “I know. Ditto.”

“Do you… I mean, do you think we… like, you and me, we could-”

“I don’t know about that, Harry. Maybe one day. When we’re ready for that, if… if we’ll ever be ready, for that. No, c’mon H, don’t cry…  Don’t be sad, baby…” Louis said softly, catching the sobs that Harry was doing a very poor job of hiding.

“I’m sorry. I know I fucked up, I know. But I’d try harder, Louis. For you, I… I’d do anything.”

Louis released a laboured breath before speaking.

“Harry, I want you to know something. Just remember this one thing, alright love? There’s this quote from the Peter Pan book I quite fancy. Sums it all up for me. It’s burnt into my memory because it’s so perfect. ‘ _You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you (…). That’s where I’ll be waiting.’_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> <http://madam-gypsy.tumblr.com/>


End file.
